


Adopted the Peoples

by procellous



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon Era, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, a tiny smidgen of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procellous/pseuds/procellous
Summary: One of Feuilly’s neighbors has a baby she can’t take care of, and abandons. Feuilly, of course, takes the baby in because he’s not about to let a baby be abandoned right in front of him.It’s only when he’s taken the baby up to his room and she starts crying that he realizes two things simultaneously:One, that he has no idea how to take care of an infant, especially a very young one that’s not even a month old, and two, that he also has no idea how he’s going to balance work, Les Amis,andthe baby.He makes a little blanket nest for the baby by his mattress, and panics as quietly as possible.





	Adopted the Peoples

One of Feuilly’s neighbors has a baby she can’t take care of, and abandons. Feuilly, of course, takes the baby in because he’s not about to let a baby be abandoned right in front of him.

It’s only when he’s taken the baby up to his room and she starts crying that he realizes two things simultaneously:

One, that he has no idea how to take care of an infant, especially a very young one that’s not even a month old, and two, that he also has no idea how he’s going to balance work, Les Amis, _and_ the baby.

He makes a little blanket nest for the baby by his mattress, and panics as quietly as possible.

He ends up going to Enjolras, explaining the situation, and asking if he could watch the baby while he works. Enjolras, who would die for Feuilly, agrees. Enjolras comes to Feuilly’s apartment in the morning when Feuilly leaves, and the baby—quickly dubbed the Tiny Citizen—joins them at the meetings. A cafe isn’t the safest place for a newborn, but neither of them want to leave the baby alone in Feuilly’s apartment for the several hours they’ll be out.

Everyone loves the Tiny Citizen. Combeferre reminds them that they do need to pick an actual name for the baby and is ignored. Prouvaire composes a sonnet about how the baby looks young and lively _now_ , but someday this tiny baby will be old and Full Of Death, leading to an indefinite ban on Prouvaire baby-sitting. Combeferre and Joly confirm that the baby is healthy—“For now,” say Joly and Prouvaire in ominous unison—if a little underweight, and a survey is conducted of who would be willing to help babysit.

Prouvaire is off the list already, and Bossuet and Grantaire also quickly remove themselves. “I’d probably drop her,” Bossuet explains. “My apartment is full of glass,” Grantaire says, demonstrating proper baby-holding to Courfeyrac.

The list of baby-sitters is decided: Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, and Bahorel. (After what will only be referred to as the Incident, Bahorel is forbidden from baby-sitting. He knows what he did.)

The rest of them help out in other ways—usually by providing milk for the Tiny Citizen, ostensibly because Feuilly's even busier than he usually is and they can spare the time to get TC milk. And general groceries for Feuilly. And they found this really cute blanket for TC, and this book about Poland, and…

Enjolras and Feuilly get closer and closer over the months, as the baby grows. They were already good friends, but something is building between them. Enjolras finds any excuse to go to Feuilly’s apartment, or to invite Feuilly to his. Feuilly goes to Enjolras before anyone else, spending the night often enough to warrant keeping a change of clothes at Enjolras’s apartment. The baby—still called the Tiny Citizen, despite the lobbying of all of Les Amis to name the child after them, and from Combeferre to _please_ give the child an actual name, any name, please—loves Enjolras almost as much as Feuilly.

And then Enjolras invites Feuilly to move in with him, and everything goes wrong.

Enjolras, not wanting to reveal his ulterior motive in the invitation, frames it as his apartment being better for the baby—the building is in better repair, the rooms are larger, the neighborhood is safer, and of course Enjolras will be there. To help with the baby. 

Unfortunately, he trips over his own tongue when saying this, and it all comes out wrong. Feuilly gets his back up, thinking that Enjolras thinks that he’s to poor take care of the baby, that he’s not good enough, and they fight. It’s possibly the worst fight either of them have ever had.

Feuilly takes the Tiny Citizen home, cradling her against his aching chest, and very determinedly doesn’t cry. She’s asleep right now, a precious bundle of everything good in the world, and crying will wake her up and make her start crying too.

He wakes in the morning expecting her wails, and instead hears harsh, barking coughs. He bundles her up in blankets and runs to Combeferre, adrenaline suppressing the panic temporarily.

When Combeferre tells him it’s croup, he does panic.

“It’s not severe,” Combeferre assures him, “and steam may help her breathing. But there’s no real treatment for it. Either she’ll recover on her own within a few days, or…”

Combeferre doesn’t finish the sentence, but Feuilly knows.

“Does Enjolras know?” Combeferre asks.

“You were the first person I went to,” Feuilly says, shaking his head.

“You should tell him. He’ll want to know.”

Feuilly thanks him, offers to pay him and gets rebuffed, and goes home to put a kettle of water on the small stove in his single small room. The Tiny Citizen cries and coughs, and every sound feels like a knife in his ribs. He tips some warm milk into her mouth, careful not to spill any, and does, finally, break into tears.

The steam doesn’t help her, so he uses the boiling water to make a little tea, which helps him.

He thinks about telling Enjolras. Combeferre is right. He’ll want to know.

He doesn’t.

He justifies it—Enjolras will worry, and there’s nothing any of them can do but wait, so there’s no point in worrying him. Mostly, though, he doesn’t think he can talk to Enjolras without it turning into a yelling match. Feuilly’s not good with anger—he can’t keep it simmering like Bahorel, who can hold a grudge for years—and he’s not good at _being_ angry, but this is still fresh and thinking about Enjolras hurts. 

He stays with her the whole day, ignoring all his responsibilities and not feeling very guilty about it. The sky outside opens up, covering the entire city with pelting rain. Gusts of wind blow loudly between buildings, and almost drown out the Tiny Citizen’s coughs. Feuilly holds her close, raining kisses down on her face, trying to soothe her.

Enjolras appears on his doorstep that evening, eyes wide and face pale, soaked to the bone, and Feuilly strongly considers closing the door in his face. 

“Combeferre told me,” Enjolras says, eyes fixed on the bundle in Feuilly’s arms. “Is she—”

Her coughs, harsh and ragged, answer the question more eloquently than he can. 

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras says next, which is not the most surprising thing Feuilly can imagine him saying, but it’s fairly high on the list. Enjolras acknowledges his mistakes as often as he makes them, but he very rarely apologizes directly. “I didn’t mean to imply that—any of it, really. I just…I want you close. Closer. To me. Because I care about you.” Enjolras robbed of his eloquence is even rarer than a direct apology, but his jaw is trembling in a way that means he’s trying to keep his teeth from chattering, and every so often a violent shudder seizes him. 

He drags Enjolras—still shivering—inside and deposits him in front of the fire. The fight is still fresh, but he knows that Enjolras doesn’t think he’s too poor to be a good father, and he really is not good at being angry. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Enjolras says, a barely-audible whisper that Feuilly almost thinks he imagined. “I can…I can give a speech to a hundred people, but I can’t say what I mean to the most important person in my life. I don’t know what I’m doing with any of this, with you and Tiny Citizen and…” His voice trails off. 

It takes Feuilly a minute to realize that Enjolras means _him_ when he says “most important person.” He sits down next to him, staring at the fire. Tiny Citizen’s coughs seem to have abated. He’s not sure he dares to hope that she’s recovering. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t know what I’m doing either. This is new to me, too.”

Enjolras gives him a grateful smile, almost glowing in the firelight. “I think you’re amazing.”

“Well,” Feuilly says, adjusting his grip on Tiny Citizen so that he doesn’t do something like kiss Enjolras (he really wants to kiss Enjolras), “I think you’re amazing too, so we’re even.”

Enjolras shifts and drops his head onto Feuilly's shoulder. His hair is still wet from the rain, dripping down Feuilly's shirt, but the fire is warm and Tiny Citizen's breathing has eased and Enjolras is here. It's not quite everything he wants—the list includes universal education and freedom from monarchy and a unified Poland—but it is everything he wants for _himself_ , and it might just be enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Deleted scene:  
> Enjolras showing up to the Les Amis meeting looking miserable and Feuilly's not there, and he asks where Feuilly is and Combeferre goes "…He didn't tell you?"
> 
> "Tell me what? What happened?"
> 
> "Tiny Citizen's sick with croup."
> 
> And then Enjolras runs out into the rain because that's his daughter, dammit. 
> 
> History nerd corner:  
> Combeferre's a little anachronistic in his diagnosis: Croup at the time referred to diphtheria, which TC does not have. She's got laryngotracheobronchitis, which is what is called croup today. The two diseases are related, and both laryngotracheobronchitis and diphtheria can be prevented with the diphtheria vaccine. Combeferre would like you to please vaccinate your kids.  
> In the modern day, croup is treated with antivirals, steroids, and epinephrine depending on how serious it is. I have no idea how it would have been treated in canon era, but it probably involved leeches. Steam is a home remedy, with anecdotal evidence indicating that it helps the cough, but it's been tested and shown to be ineffective for clinical settings. 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr!](ombreferre.tumblr.com)


End file.
